I love an album. I like to listen as the writer intended. Maybe that comes from the fact that I'm a writer - I also want people to listen to my work in the order that I put it in. And so a good album, for me, tells a story. It evolves from start to finish. I want to feel something. I want to start the album on the train and forget that I'm travelling anywhere - probably missing my stop. I don't want to skip any songs. There shouldn't be any "skippable" songs on any album, by the way. It's not an album to me if not every single song is integral to the body of work. As a lyricist, I'm looking out for lyricism and lyrical identity. I want to know the voice of the person who's singing this album. Sonic identity plays into this too. Paint me a picture of who you are, or who this person is that you're portraying through the album, please. Maybe I'm thinking too much about albums? But my favourite albums are ones that I feel like I haven't thought enough about. Anyway. These are five albums I listened to in 2025 and what I thought about them - as my first gift of independent music journalism to you on this here website.
Now, I've never listened to Gracie Abrams beyond watching people running around in the dark to her songs on tiktok. Hobert, for the uninitiated, is Abrams' best friend and musical collaborator. She's been behind some of Abrams' biggest hits, and in 2025, came out of nowhere, seemingly, with one of the best debut albums I have ever heard. Who's the Clown? was unprecedented in my ears. By the fifteen-second clips I saw on social media of her first song, Sue Me, I was expecting to hate it and then get promptly tourtured by it. Instead, I find myself torturing those around me with this album, which is a nice feeling. It's a rollercoaster, for sure, with each song building this undeniably complex and weird female character. I hate her, I am her, and by the end I'm rooting for her. It's also one of those albums that gives you a new favourite song with each listen. For me, right now, it's Shooting Star, Thirst Trap, and Phoebe. Although, since I heard the pizza pocket's lament in Sex and the City, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, and how it's the most honest portrayal of men I've heard in years. In the same breath that Audrey makes fun of herself, she makes some astute and incredibly self-aware analyses of herself and her life. It's got *layers*. I like layers! My favourite thing to look out for after a brilliant first album, naturally, is the second album. I find it's the make or break of an artist. It's either going to be their best, most career defining work, take Melodrama by Lorde for example, or the work that gets them a room in the khia asylum, iykyk. I will be eagerly awaiting the next installment in the Audrey Hobert saga.
Speaking of second albums, here is a gorgeous one. If anyone's out there making a second album right now, just know, this is the progression I expect to see. The Last Dinner Party had incredible success with their first album, Prelude to Ecstacy, likely making this project an intimidating task. What I love about this album is that it isn't a one-eighty thematic change from their first album, but more of a doubling-down on their original inspirations. It's angrier, dirtier, sadder, more passionate and complex than their first album in every way. And I love their first album. So that means I really love this album. The stand-out track for me is Second Best, which feels like a manic diary entry said through gritted teeth. Another is Sail Away, which really got me the first time I listened to it. A lot of these songs latch onto one devastating lyric and say it over and over until it's in your bones. Take you with me anywhere, I'll take you with me holds power over me. Especially when you repeat it eight times and the song is about death. And when the very next song on the album is also about death, now you've really got me thinking. Now I'm going to stare at the wall for three hours. This album is so vivid and emersive, it makes other albums feel like silent films. I'd like to see them make something different for their next album - likely because if I were them, I'd be extremely concerned about how I'm supposed to top this album.
Now Would Be A Good Time for a change of speed, courtesy of my favourite band on earth and their debut album. It's not often that I'm lost for words about a piece of music - I almost always have some opinion on an album if you ask. But this is a rare occasion that I am left completely enamoured and speechless by a body of work. It's that good, and I can't explain to you why. You just have to listen to it. FBT's whole niche is that there's three members (hence - trio) and they love to do three part harmonies. It's simple in premace, yet when you layer it with their honest and unique lyrical identity, in tandem with their warm, analog sound, it's truly other-worldly. Folk has never sounded so good to me. In fact, the most powerful moment of the album to my ears is when the three sing in unison for a moment on my favourite track, Sarah. It makes everything else from that moment sound so rich and powerful, it brings a tear to my eye. I've seen this band live twice this year and their harmonies are even more ruthlessly beautiful in person. They're coming back to London all the way from Australia on March 11th 2026 - which happens to be the same day I've got tickets for Audrey Hobert. I'm sure that won't cause me extreme internal conflict.
This album dominated my spotify wrapped, and I don't think I could've had it any other way. Released in March, there was simply no hope for anything else. Mayhem is a return to form for Lady Gaga, but also a playful test of boundaries. It's got the grit of the Born This Way era, but somehow weaves in a distinct eighties disco groove throughout the album. It's infectious. Like a Disease. I have a lot of good friends who loved this album, and none of us actually seemed to have the same favourite songs, which is a testament to how good the album is, I'd say. Sometimes it's clear with an album which songs had the most time and care given to them, with certain tracks being clear frontrunners. This album definitely isn't an example of that. Killah (feat. Gesaffelstein) was a favourite of mine, but also happened to be the least favourite of my good friend and producer, Wiebke. We both managed to agree on How Bad Do U Want Me though, which we, and many other digital fans as it happens, likened to some of the best tracks from 1989 by Taylor Swift. In all honesty, there are some songs on this album that don't speak to me, like Blade of Grass and Don't Call Tonight, but I don't find that hindering my experience of the album. Crucially, as I've mentioned, they feel integral to the narrative of the album. I wouldn't listen to them individually, but I definitely won't skip them on a full play-through. The highlight of the album for me is it's ending song, Die With A Smile. It has the same warming quality as Favourite from Romance by Fontaines D.C., which is the ending track to end them all. It takes the whole spectrum of emotions you felt throughout the album and tucks them into bed with a kiss. It's like a reward.
To warmly finish in a very Favourite kind of way, we have to talk about CMAT. Euro-Country is undoubtedly a career high for her - the album is no short of an epic. It's a conversation about Ireland, about women, about love and identity. I hadn't heard much of CMAT before the roll-out of this album, and so my first introduction to the Euro-Country world was the song Running/Planning. The track remains a favourite of mine - it's a contemplative slow burn for sure, but the end has a classic CMAT screaming opportunity. She's a fan of lyrics that hurt, giving you as many opportunities to curse someone's name as she can. Another highlight, for this exact reason, is The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station. God it's a good one, and quite special I gathered from seeing it live, to people all around the British Isles. I imagine the lyrics okay, don't be a bitch were heard all around the world each night of the tour. We all needed that, I think. CMAT doesn't just do screamers, however, she balances the album with beauties like Lord, Let That Tesla Crash. On first impression, you'd think this song was of the same elk as her Jamie Oliver diss track, but instead it's a poignant reflection on death and grief. It's weird and uncomfortable and that's exactly the kind of death song I think is needed for a lot of people. CMAT is really at her best right now - her musical identity is clear and undeniable. More of this, please?